


a phoenix in the fire

by capsize (copenhagenborn)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Blood Sharing, M/M, Simon thinks he's a bad vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7932688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copenhagenborn/pseuds/capsize
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>five times Simon almost gets a clan member killed, and one time he doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a phoenix in the fire

**1.**

Raphael finds him just before dawn, when the sky’s still dark but the sunlight is starting to break through, when his skin starts to hurt but not enough for him to die. But he feels like he’s going to; his skin is burning and his throat is dry and there’s a panic rising in his chest. And he _feels_ like he’s dying, and it’s his fault for being a bad vampire, for not knowing when he should have returned to the institute, for not keeping himself fed.

And then Raphael comes, his very own dark knight in silk and pristine suits, with a scowl on his face and harsh spoken words on his lips.

“ _Dios_ baby, what are you doing on the ground?” and then he’s kneeling, his fine tailored pants touching the dirty New York sidewalk. And if Simon could talk he would make a joke about this, but he can’t so he doesn’t.

Raphael helps him to a crouch, holds him to his chest as he tries to get them to their feet, but Simon has no strength left in him and crumbles back on the ground. The small bit of blood he had managed to steal from the Shadowhunters’ emergency room has been used up a long time ago, and now Simon’s going to die while Raphael watches. And he doesn’t want that, because it’s not Raphael’s fault he chose Clary over him, not his fault that Simon’s been a bad vampire and can’t provide for himself. But if he dies now, here in Raphael’s arms, Raphael’s going to think that, that if he hadn’t thrown him out of the hotel Simon wouldn’t be here dying.

“You are pathetic, you know that right?” Raphael hisses but there’s no anger left in his voice, nothing but defeat and regret as slumps down against the stone wall behind them. He pulls Simon between his legs and lets him lean against his chest, holding him up with an arm around his waist. “When we’re done here, I’m going to kill you myself and you have _no right_ to complain, you hear me?”

And Simon nods because he’s already died once, so why not do it twice? 

Raphael doesn’t say anything as he brings his wrist to his mouth, piercing his skin with his fangs and watching the blood trickle down his arm before he brings it to Simon’s mouth and pries his mouth open, “Drink baby, it will make you feel better.” So Simon drinks, because Raphael tells him to.

It’s a tart taste, sharper than what he remembers humans to taste like, but it feels so good in his mouth, as if it’s warming him up for the inside, making his heart beat once again, as if everything hasn’t been so very still since he crawled out of the ground. He drinks until his teeth hurt, until it aches so much he has to bite down again, this time much higher and closer to the artery.

He doesn’t care that he has to bite through Raphael’s clothing to get to his shoulder, doesn’t care that Raphael curses and tries to push him back, because he might have been able to ignore it before, but now that he finally gets to feed he feels starved.

“That’s enough, baby.” Raphael says firmly but he doesn’t push him away, just places a cold hand on the back of his neck and squeezes, keeps it there until Simon lets go and retracts his fangs. “There you go,” he says as Simon collapses into his body, head lolling back to lean on Raphael’s shoulder and hands falling to the ground around them.

But the sun is still rising and neither of them can afford to stay tucked away in the receding shadows. Raphael pulls both of them up, keeps an arm around Simon as he stumbles over the curb before they launch into a run.

Simon doesn’t know where they’re going until they stop in front of the hotel, the sun grazing their heels as they huddle against the door.

And then Simon remembers. Because this isn’t Simon’s home, Raphael had made sure he understood that if he ever stepped foot back here he would be dead. Because Simon’s a bad vampire who doesn’t care about anyone but himself, especially not his own kind.

“I don’t- this is not. I’m not supposed to be here,” Simon finally says shaking his head, and his voice is too scratchy, too rough for his soft words. But he doesn’t _belong_ here, not when the entire clan wants him dead because he chose a Shadowhunter above his king, and now he has to pay the price of betrayal – he doesn’t _get_ to belong here, not anymore.

But Raphael doesn’t throw him out, doesn’t tell him to get back out in the sun, doesn’t say ‘ _I saved you just to watch you die at my hand,’_ but he does sigh. “You might not have died tonight, but if you keep this up you might as well have. You have to take care of yourself baby, but I don’t think you know how to do that yet.”

“Does that mean – is that your way of – are you saying I can come back?” there’s too many thoughts running through his head as he watches Raphael roll his eyes and pull down the door handle, too many things he wants to say and not enough ways of saying them.

“Are you coming or are you planning to walk back in the sun?” he doesn’t wait for an answer, just turns on his heels and walks into the building, Simon following quickly behind.

 

There’s not a lot of people awake when they walk in, just a few of them lingering around waiting for Raphael to return. All of them is someone Simon had gotten close to during his short stay, and now all of them are staring at him like they want to kill him.

He takes a step closer to Raphael, trying to hide himself behind the vampire, and it doesn’t take more than a second for his foot to hit the ground before there’s an array of hisses and exposed fangs from the clan.

“Enough!” 

There’s no hesitation as they draw back, all of them dropping their gazes to the floor before they step back in perfect submission.

“Simon is from now on a guest here and you are all to treat him as such. If I find out someone has broken those rules, there will be consequences.”

“Like there was when _he_ betrayed us?” someone in the back scoffs. And it’s not meant to be heard, Simon knows because he’s the king of whispered comments, but it doesn’t work when the entire room has superhuman hearing.

But Raphael stays calm and does nothing but turn to the vampire who spoke, “ _Simon_ was banished because of his actions, his betrayal was a breach of his words. Leaving him out there without knowing he can take care of himself would be a breach of mine. I have not forgiven Simon, nor do I expect you to, but Simon _is_ one of us and I will not let anyone die under my watch, not when so little has to be done to insure his survival. Is that alright with you?”

The small group of vampires disband after that, mutter soft goodnights before they go off to their own rooms, leaving only Lily behind with them.

“So you let the fledgling back in, I should have figured,” she pushes Raphael to the side and does a slow lap around Simon, looking him up and down before she stops right in front of him. With a long, perfectly manicured finger she swipes up a droplet of scarlet blood before sucking it off with a calculating smile, “I _nteresting_.”

“Lily, stop it.” Raphael tells her as he goes to the small emergency fridge in the corner of the room and pulls out a bag of blood.

“But you taste so very good, oh king of mine, you should share more often.” But she doesn’t stay around, just makes her way past Raphael to kiss his cheek before she leaves the room silently as ever.

“She’s a bit dramatic, isn’t she?” Simon says, trying to hide the yawn he’s been repressing since his body figured he wasn’t going to die tonight.

“Says the baby who was literally _dying_ because he wouldn’t drink a bit of blood,”

“That’s not what –“ but Simon doesn’t want to tell him that he reason he hasn’t been eating is because of Clary and her reaction to the blood, that she hadn’t thought about how they were going to supply Simon with blood for his survival. He doesn’t tell him that the friend he had chosen before his clan hadn’t bothered to choose him back when she had to sacrifices something as simple as a bit of tolerance to his new way of living. “You know _baby_ is a term of endearment right?” he says instead.

Raphael raises his brows but doesn’t dignify his comment with an answer.

Instead he leads him to the room he had been in during his first visit and points to the obnoxious golden couch. “This will be your room for the time being, we had a new resident during your time away and he was put in your former room.” As in, _we didn’t think you’d be back_.

“Oh,” Simon says as he looks around, eyes lingering sourly on the couch too firm to sleep well on. But he can’t very well ask for more, not when he’s already been allowed back into the Dumort. “I’ve slept on worse I guess, thank you.”

Raphael walks silently to the door before he stops to look back at him, “You should drink something before going to sleep, vampire blood might make you feel sated but it doesn’t nourish you.”  


**2.**

Simon doesn’t leave the Dumort, not even when Clary finally calls to ask him where he is and why he hasn’t been home for a while. He keeps it short, tells her he’s done choosing her over himself and the rest of the clan. And she tells him he’s crazy, that Raphael’s messing with his head and making him say stuff he doesn’t mean, that if he wants to come home she can stop by and pick him up.

_‘You don’t get it_ ,’ Simon wants to scream because she _doesn’t_ get it. _This_ is his home, not some Shadowhunter hotspot where Downworlders are looked down on, amongst his own kind who doesn’t judge him when he empties the blood bag in under one minute because he slept badly or when he accidently pops a fang when Raphael bends over a bit too smoothly to pick up the papers Simon dropped, no one shies away from him afraid he’s going to suck their throat dry like Clary had done that time.

The clan still hasn’t warmed up to him though, so he stays close to Raphael and when he’s gone Simon tries to stay in his room. That is, until the newest fledgling comes to seek him out.

Will is tall and gangly with red hair and freckles on every surface of his body and doesn’t mind Simon all that much, not enough to tell him to go anyway.

They’re in the middle of watching the third Star Wars movie when Simon gets up to grab a bag of blood, “I can’t believe you’ve never seen Star Wars, what did you _do_ then? I mean, what do anyone do when they’re not watching Star Wars? Hey, do you want some blood?”

Will looks up absently from the television and nods, “Don’t heat it up please, I like it cold.” He says with a soft smile and turns back to the screen, “I was on the track team before, well you know, so I didn’t have a lot of free time to watch cult movies,”

“Hey, Star Wars is a corner stone of proper upbringing!” Simon shouts disbelieving as the microwave beeps, he pulls out the cup and pours Will’s into his own cup. “Every decent person has seen at least one Star Wars movie, it’s a ritual of passing in some cultures I think.”

He sits down in the other end of the couch and hands over the cold cup.

“Hey, do you think Raphael has seen them?” Will asks and takes a sip, his fangs only just breeching his gums as the scent finally hits his nose.

“Probably not,” Simon says with a grin, “I know he was around when they were made, but I just can’t imagine him sitting down in front of the television to actually _watch_ something instead of making fun of those who are watching.”

It had been a bit of a struggle when Simon had to convince Raphael that they needed a television in the golden room as he had dubbed it. But when Simon had promised he would stay out of his way when the clan from Washington came to visit next month, Raphael had sent two of his goons to the nearest electronics shop.

Will coughs, a weird rattle coming from his chest as he looks into the cup, “Did you uh, did you do anything to the blood?” he coughs again, this time loudly and with more difficulty.

“No, I just ripped the corner off and poured it in, is something wrong? Do you think it has gone bad?”

Simon scoots closer to take the cup from his hands and sniffs it, nothing smells wrong, but Will is sliding to the floor holding his hand around his throat as if he’s having problems with breathing, and Simon doesn’t know what to do.

“Help! Will cannot breathe, please! RAPHAEL!” Simon screams as he moves down beside Will, pushing the table away so he can sit by his chest as Will’s lips turn blue and his eyes start to roll back in his head.

 

And then Raphael’s there beside them, propping Will’s head up into Simon’s lap and looking down at the boy who can’t be more than seventeen.

“What did you do baby?” he says resigned and watches as Simon turns a pale shade of blushing.

“Nothing! All he did was drink some of the blood I-“

“Blood? What blood?”

“ _Our_ blood, nothing wrong with it too, I tried a bit of it and I’m fine.”

“What _type_ , idiota?” Raphael hisses and flashes to a cupboard just above the fridge. He pulls out something that looks very much like an Epi pen and goes to rip Will’s shirt out of the way.

“Um, I think it was AB+, that’s what I usually drinks and it’s a bit spicy so I thought –“

And then Raphael jerks the needle into Will’s chest and he wheezes back into life – undeadness, Simon thinks – and dry coughs until he can sit up for himself.

“What- I, can’t you please explain it to me?” Simon stutters confused, looking from the coughing boy to Raphael who looks more than annoyed.

“He’s allergic to everything but O- and whenever _someone_ gives him something that isn’t that, he goes into anaphylactic shock and his heart stops beating. AB+ is plausible the worst thing you could have given him, baby.” Raphael replies curtly and stands up from the floor after making sure Will’s okay. “Please try not to kill the other fledglings just because you want my attention.”

“I’m, what are you talking about?!” Simon splutters from the floor, watching the vampire walk away with a roll of his eyes. “You wish I was doing this because of you!” but Raphael’s already gone back to what he was doing before Simon decided to kill another clan member.

Will pulls himself to the couch, arms shaking as he reaching for his blanket, and Simon feels so bad for the guy, that he hadn’t bothered to ask if there was something he should know back when they first started hanging out.

“Hey man, I’m really sorry that happened, I didn’t know-“

“No, it’s okay.” Will says with a smile, “Raphael did a whole show and tell when we first figured it out, and you were there at the time, so I really should have told you. But I was so caught up in the movie that I just sort of forgot that you didn’t know,”

Simon nods and flashes to the fridge to get him a bag of O-, bringing it to Will with an apologetic smile. “Do they know why you react like that? I mean, I haven’t seen that since my friend Ed ate peanuts and then fell down from his chair in Pre-K.”

Will shrugs, “When I was human I suffered from an autoimmune disease, like my body would attack itself and I would get worse, so – you’ve Alice right? She’s my great grandmother – when I was just on the brink of dying, she turned me into a vampire. Raphael’s theory is that my disease somehow affected my transition, and now I can only drink the blood type I used to be.”

“That _sucks_ ,”

“Well, most members actually remember I can’t drink anything but that, so the accidents are few and far between.” Will says with a smirk, pushing Simon gently until he smiles back.

“Yeah well, I might just start to remember that.”

  
**3.**

Another thing that’s new since Simon was living at Dumort are the fledgling self-defense classes Raphael is teaching.

“So you just stand there and watch us fight each other? That sounds a bit weird man,” Simons says the first time he drags him into the ballroom turned gym, ten other vampires scattered across the room in various forms of gym wear. “I’m wearing jeans Raphael, I can’t fight in _skinny_ jeans.”

Raphael shrugs and takes a seat against the wall, “Should’ve thought about that baby, you can always take them off if they’re uncomfortable.”

Simon scoffs and moves into the middle of the room, “You would like that, wouldn’t you?” He spies Will in the back of the room, hiding behind a case of weapons from the middle ages.

“Okay fledglings, remember everything’s allowed as long as it doesn’t cut off a head, we can’t put those back on. Other than that, you are free to begin.” Raphael says from his spot, his voice monotone as ever as he gives them the go ahead and then Simon’s flung back onto the floor.

It’s been a while since he’s been in a proper fight.

They had tried to spar with him back at the institute, back when Clary had decided they should ignore the fact that Simon wasn’t a human anymore but a superhuman vampire. So Alec had happily stepped forward, so confident that his Shadowhunter agility and years of training would be a fair match to Simon’s raw power.

He hadn’t meant to throw him that far, hadn’t meant to break his wrist and get yelled at by Magnus for ruining their date the next day, but Simon had never had the chance to spar with someone his own size, until now.

Because now whenever he pulls there’s someone to push back, and he’s not holding back in fear of breaking something or hurting someone because everyone in this room are his equals. So when Lizzie - the English exchange student who had stumbled upon a vampire during freshman orientation – throws an axe at him he deflects smoothly and pulls it from the floor and throws it right back.

It’s great and fun and Simon has missed being around this many people who doesn’t scowl at him and calls him a traitor.

 

He doesn’t know when he moved to the edges of the room, moving against the walls and jumping from furniture to furniture to avoid whatever’s being thrown at him. But then Lizzie throws the axe again and this time Simon jumps to the floor and reaches behind him and just about throws the axe before he’s being tackled to the floor as the sounds around them stops.

Someone’s pushing him chest first to the floor, throwing arm jerked behind his back and held in a position that would have broken his arm if he didn’t heal almost instantaneously. He tries to get up, tries to signal that he gets it he shouldn’t have thrown that and that he’ll behave, but the person above him keeps pushing him down farther and harsher than before.

“Do you even _think_ before you act?” Raphael hisses furiously into his ear, his voice low and dangerous as he pushes Simon down again. And Simon can’t help but shiver from the closeness between them, how Raphael is hard and firm pressed flush against his back with his strong hands holding him in place. And Simon doesn’t want to pop a fang in the midst of ten other newborns, but if he keeps this up he’s pretty sure it’s going to be a sure thing.

“ _Answer me_ , fledgling!” Raphael yells, his voice full of anger and Simon hears the room empty, leaving just the two of them pressed against the wall. “You have to pay attention Simon, it won’t work out if you don’t pay attention to the world around you. You were told you weren’t allowed to inflict permanent damage to the other fledglings, were you not?”

“Yes, of cour-“

“Then why didn’t you think before throwing that thing at Elizabeth? Why didn’t you just take your time to look at it before hurling it into the air?” and he sounds so frustrated when he pushes away from Simon, crossing the room to pace in front of him with anger steps. “Why didn’t you _think_ , baby?”

Simon looks back and feels the blood leave his face, a slight tremor in his hands as he picks up the piece of wood his hands had torn from the chair instead of the axe Simon thought it had been. “I, I didn’t think, I thought it was-“

“I know what you thought it was, but that doesn’t matter baby.” Raphael says coldly as he stops in front of the kneeling vampire. “You would have thrown that directly into her chest, Simon, and with your strength that blunt piece of wood would have pierced her heart and she would be dead. All that because you didn’t think, _so why didn’t you think before throwing it_?”

“I don’t know, I just didn’t!” Simon finally screams, his hands rubbing frustrated at his head as he watches Raphael scoff.

“That’s just the thing about you isn’t it? You don’t _think_ , you just do what you think is the right thing without as much as to think about the consequences.” And Simon knows they’re not talking about this anymore, because Raphael doesn’t just sound angry, he sounds hurt and betrayed.

And Simon hates himself for what he’s done, what he has done _to Raphael_ who has been so fucking good to him and tried to help and integrate him into the vampire society, back when Simon still was trying to fit in with the humans and saw whatever Raphael was doing as weird and unnecessary.

“I’m so sorry Raphael, I know what I did was wrong and I shouldn’t have let Camille out, I should have stayed here with you and I-“ he begs as he tries to crawl to Raphael, clinging to his legs with weak arms. And he knows he sounds down right pathetic, but nothing has been more important to him than what Raphael’s forgiveness is to him right now.

Raphael cups his cheek with his hand, hurt eyes locking with Simon’s in a sweet attempt of contact. “Sorry doesn’t bring Camille back to us, baby, and sorry wouldn’t have brought Elizabeth back if you had killed her. I don’t need your apologies, I need you to _think_.”

And then he walks away, he doesn’t turn around to watch Simon crumble to the floor, doesn’t turn around to tell him to get back on his feet, he doesn’t even stop by to call him pathetic for staying on the floor the rest of the night.

 

Simon stays away from the next three fledgling-fighting classes and ignores the way Raphael looks at him when he comes by to tell him his room is done. Neither one of them say anything as they walk to the room. 

They stop before the door next doors to Raphael, and Simon wants to say something because no matter what Raphael says, this means something. Simon knows that no one has lived in the rooms around Raphael’s in a long time, that he had preferred them unlived in so they wouldn’t disturb his peace. So Simon wants to tell him that he gets what Raphael’s trying to do, that even if they don’t get along right now, Raphael wants him around, wants Simon close so he can make sure he’s safe.

But Raphael doesn’t linger after he pushes the key into Simon’s hand.

He just turns on his feet and walks down the dark hallway to get away.

  
**4.**

The fourth time it happens, Simon really hadn’t thought everything through.

After his fight with Raphael and the thing where he accidently almost killed Lizzie, everyone stopped talking to him and went out of their way to ignore him.

So Simon sneaks out and goes to Pandemonium to blow off a bit of pent up steam. The club is filled with people who doesn’t care about what Simon drinks to survive and don’t care about him betraying his friends. So Simon finally lets loose, throwing his head back and lets himself be tossed around in the middle of the dance floor.

And then he meets a small group of mundanes, who doesn’t mind his slightly exposed fangs and doesn’t look at him funny when he orders something with blood in it. Instead they smile invitingly and pulls him to their booth with a peculiar interest in how long Simon has been a vampire.  And it’s been so long since Simon has had an actual conversation that didn’t involved Raphael sneering his name or someone telling him to get the fuck out of their way, so Simon jumps head first into their small booth and buys the first round of drinks for the table.

And when the short black haired guy next to him starts to run his hand up the inside of Simon’s thigh, Simon is all too happy to go with him outside in the alley for a quick make out. Because if he squints and ignores the very plain New York accent, Simon can almost imagine him being someone else. 

“Like this, do you?” the guy grunts as he kisses down Simon’s neck with blunt teeth, hands moving too slow and soft for Simon really to register it. But Simon’s been celibate forever and he might never get a shot at the real deal, so Simon nods and tells him he can use a bit more teeth.  

The guy laughs, “Oh, so the _vampire_ likes his neck getting sucked. If that’s not ironic I don’t know what is,” and that’s when Simon knows something is wrong, because there’s no hint of the soft teasing or the kind words he had whispered into Simon’s ear, nothing but pure disgust as he spits out the word.

“What-“ and then he hears the whoosh of something coming towards him, so Simon tucks and rolls to the side, watching a perfectly cut wooden arrow piercing the black haired guy with a scream.

“What the fuck are you guys doing?! You’re supposed to hit the vamp, not me!” he cries at the rest of the group that’s becoming visible at the edge of the alleyway.

And then Simon runs, flashes past the group and continuing down the street, not stopping when he feels the wood piercing his back.

He starts to slump when he reaches the block near the Dumort. He reaches back blindly and pulls the arrow from his back, but something is off about the angle he pulls from and the arrow snaps leaving the head still in him. “ _Shit_ ,” he curses defeated, holding himself up with against a street lamp.

But he hears the cars coming down the street, angry yells and voices pitched in a familiar way, so he fights his way to the hotel and throws the door open, “Hunters! They’re coming, there’s five and, and they have –“ but he doesn’t get any farther before everything turns black.  

 

He wakes up in a strange bed to someone poking around in his back.

“What are you doing?” he slurs and tries to move around, but someone keeps him restrained and held against the soft mattress.

“I almost got it, but you have to keep him still.” Lily sneers and pushes Simon’s head back to the bed before she pokes the tweezer back into his flesh. He can feel the blood trickling down his back, staining the pristine white silk sheets, and for a minute he feels bad for whoever has to clean them, but then Lily pulls and it feels like he’s entire skin is falling apart.

“Stop screaming baby, you’re scary the others.” Raphael orders him, but his voice is soft and just right next to his ear. So Simon relaxes into his hands, lets him ease up his grip to just pinning him from his biceps.

“There you go, that wasn’t so bad was it?” Lily taunts and daps at the wound before she steps back to meet Simon’s gaze.

“You just removed a piece of wood poking against my heart, you tell me.”

“You’re such a boy, Simon, always complaining about the smaller injuries. You weren’t even in any _real_ danger.” And Simon wants to cry, big wet tears rolling down his cheeks because he’s missed this so fucking much. He’s missed having other people to talk to him, to tease him and call him names because they care about him, because they want to diffuse a tense situation where people had been afraid.

“Thank you,” he tells her instead and rolls to his side when Raphael lets him go.

She nods slowly, watching how he struggles to sit up against the bed frame, and then reaches out to squeeze his hand, “You’re so fucking stupid, you know that right? Like, second time recipient of the Darwin award stupid.” And Simon just smiles because Lily is also smiling and the rest of the clan is standing in the door watching him with speculative eyes but no one is glaring at him. And that’s the first time in weeks that has happened.

 

“Alright, the baby is fine. Everyone can go now.” Raphael tells them firmly. He goes to close the door, gently pushing the ones lingering at the door out before he turns to Simon with a tired look. “Can you even explain this? Or should I just not ask,” He goes to the other side of the bed and sits down, and that’s when Simon notices the décor of the room, the closet filled with pristine dark suits, an old picture of what looks like a family with a young Raphael in the middle of two older girls, the stacks of paper and folders pushed together on the desk in the corner. 

“Why are we in your room?” Simon blurts out, and Simon has never been here before, but he knows this is it; knows it when he looks at the bedside table on his side and sees the bible there opened to Leviticus 17.

Raphael catches him looking and reaches across to close the book and pushes it into the drawer. But Simon already knows what it says, has known since he first read the Torah and then again when he wanted to know what were supposed to happen to vampires when their lives ended. And Simon wants to tell him to cut it out, to stop torturing himself just because of what some _book_ says, because despite what Simon might have said in the beginning, neither one of them are monsters.

“It was the closest and we had to get the arrowhead removed quickly.” Raphael says calmly.

And Simon just nods because he owes him that, so he doesn’t mention the fact that Simon’s room is just next door and probably even closer to the main entrance.

“Did anyone else get hurt?” he asks instead and accepts the bottle of lukewarm blood with a smile.

“Will took an arrow to the knee but he’ll be fine, the mundanes have been killed, of course, and the institute has been notified.” Raphael replies with just a minor slur, and that’s when Simon realizes what the time is and how tired his own body is.

Both of them get up to shrug off their clothes before getting back under the sheets; Simon keeps waiting anxiously for the moment Raphael tells him to go back to his own room, but it never comes.

“You do know that bringing them here was a dumb idea, right? If there had been more of them or if they had been better organized, we might not have made it.” Raphael tells him when they’re both lying down, eyes locked on each other and shoulders just so touching.

Simon nods, “Yeah, I figured that out halfway here, but I knew that if I went here I would be safe, that you would protect me.”

“You’re a vampire, baby,” Raphael says softly, reaching out to poke the fang that’s pushing against Simon’s lip, careful movements as he lets it pierce the skin of the tip of his finger. They both watch the drop of blood trickle down his knuckle before Simon licks it from his skin with eager strokes of his tongue, Raphael’s breath catching in his throat as he says, “you’re supposed to be able to protect yourself.”

“Maybe I am,” Simon finally says, eyes closed as he feels the pull of sleep taking over. “Maybe I just like it when you do it for me.”

  
**5.**

He’s still not back in the good graces of the clan, but they look at him differently when he steps out from Raphael’s room the next day, some odd mixture of acceptance of respect that Simon hasn’t seen before. But he doesn’t mind it when they all move aside to let him through to the fridge; when Lizzie asks him to sit next to him for an episode of _Scream_ , or when Lily mixes an extra _Bloody Mary_ for their monthly clan poker tournament and places it in front of him – it might just be to get an extra look at his cards, but Simon will take it.

Raphael is acting different too.

They haven’t talked about their night together, how Simon ended up curled into his chest and Raphael hissing in his sleep whenever someone walked past the room, or how Raphael had made something very close to a whimper when Simon had left him sleeping in the bed to get some blood. 

Raphael still yells at him and tells him to do something other than sit on the couch and watch television, still tells him to stop gorging on blood whenever they sit down as a clan to eat together; he doesn’t stop correcting his stance when he practices hand-to-hand combat with Will or gives him shit when he doesn’t run up to par with the rest of the fledglings.

But now he does it with a soft touch to his shoulder, a lingering hand on the small of his back or a fleeting push of his chest against Simon’s back when he reprimands him for being too slow and allowing himself to get hurt; kisses to his forehead when he finally does something right, or squeezes to his hand with Raphael passes in a hurry and doesn’t have time to stop and say hello.

And Simon likes getting forehead kisses and touches, so he tries to be good, tries to have Raphael’s cup of blood ready and warm when he steps out of his room, or archiving the files still left over from Camille’s reign of terror, teaching the older members of the clan how to use technology so they can keep Raphael up to date when they leave the house.

And it works, because Raphael doesn’t seem as small and angry as he used to be – he’s still small, but there’s no worrying level of anger pent up inside that makes everyone scared of him – and he doesn’t cuss as much when he thinks no one can hear him. So Simon keeps it up.

 

They’re at a clan meeting, all of the members spread out in the small room as they listen to Raphael talk about some new changes that’s going to help them improve the clan’s reputation in the vampire community. And Simon doesn’t mind sitting squeezed in between Will and Lizzie on the small ottoman, because Raphael is a wonderful speaker, talking with passion and understanding as he goes around and tells them what he wants from each of them and what he thinks they’ll get out of it. And Simon feels so proud to know that that is his king, that Raphael is the one to rule over them and that he wants nothing but the best for all of them.

And then Raphael asks Joel to get him a cup of blood.

Simon can’t help but let his eyes linger on the tall blond who almost stumbles over his own feet to get to the fridge to pull out a bag of blood to heat up. And it’s not jealousy that’s tugging at his heart – it’s not, it really isn’t – but Simon doesn’t like how the fledgling pulls out the cup with shaking hands and blowing on the steaming liquid before he pulls out of white bottle from the cupboard and adds a spoonful of white powder to _Raphael’s_ cup of blood, and then Simon jumps.

He flashes to the side of the vampire and tackles him to the floor, taking him down with the cup in hand and watching it spill over the two of them, but he doesn’t care as he hisses angrily and pins him to the floor with his claws.

“ _Simon!_ ” he hears faintly, but Simon is busy taking this, this _traitor_ out for his king and doesn’t as much as flinch when he swipes a clawed hand over his chest. The fledgling’s crying out in pain and tries to push at Simon’s chest, and Joel might be older than he is, but right not Simon is a lot angrier.

“How fucking _dare_ you!” Simon sneers as he wraps his hands around his throat, and just as he’s about to twist his head off his shoulders someone pulls him back.

“ _Dios baby_ , what are you even doing?” Raphael says resigned and pulls him away from the spluttering vampire now surrounded by clan members who look at Simon oddly.

“He was – _don’t help him up!”_ he screams madly and struggles in Raphael’s arms, but Raphael isn’t new at this game – isn’t even new when it comes to keeping _Simon_ pinned – so he just pulls him to a chair and pushes him down. “He was trying to _kill_ you, Raphael, I was trying to save you.”

“He was trying to _feed_ me, baby. Do you see that broken cup over there? I _told_ him to get that for me.”

“No, he-“ Simon whines and tries to look around Raphael’s looming frame to see if Joel has admitted his crimes yet, “You didn’t see it, he was pouring some powder into your cup, he was trying to poison you so he could overthrow you.”

Raphael shakes his head defeated and calls the meeting to an end before he crouches in front of Simon with a tired smile, “Joel hates paperwork Simon, he hates every administrative job I’ve been trying to give him, so I don’t think you have to worry about him overthrowing me.”

“But what about the-“

“Vitamin D, baby.” He sighs loudly as he takes Simon’s hand in his, “Old vampires have to take vitamin supplements because we don’t get enough of that in our diet, and vitamin D especially is important amongst vampires who can’t walk in the sun. Joel used to be a pharmacist so he’s made a mixture that has everything we need and can be taken with blood.”

“Oh, that’s. Yeah, that’s pretty smart.” Simon concedes with a hopeful smile.

“No one is trying to kill the clan, Simon,” Raphael says calmly as he gets to his feet, pulling Simon with him as he goes, “Except you of course, but we’re used to it by now.”

 

**+1.**

It’s just on the brink of dawn when Simon finally arrives at the hotel.

 He has been spending his night hanging out with Jace and Magnus at the latter’s loft when the rest of the Shadowhunters had been called away on a mission and left the three of them as the odd ones out. But it hadn’t been bad, Magnus had a couple of beers in the fridge and enough booze to stock the nearest bars and with Jace being the only one without a supernatural way of healing, he had been the first one to pass out. Magnus had followed not long after, his eyes slipping shut just as he finishes talking about how Alec looked when he slept in Magnus’ bed – or how he looked when they did everything but sleeping in that bed.

So when Simon walks through the doors of the Dumort, he’s still a bit drowsy from the intoxicated blood Jace had allowed him to taste when Simon had whined about not being able to become drunk ever again and Magnus had coughed loudly and oh so fake. And Simon still can’t believe Raphael had kept this from him, because Simon loves being drunk.

But then he looks around the room and takes in the total chaos the room has turned into; clan members fighting other vampires, chairs and cupboards broken off to act as weapon as they throw themselves at each other, Will lying at the edge of the room breathing shallowly with a leg of the table sticking out of his stomach.

And then he sees it, Raphael lying in the middle of the room with a neat circle of arrows poking out of his chest, all of them just narrowly missing his heart, and just above him with another arrow twirling between her fingers is Camille. She’s taunting him, Simon can hear from where he stands, telling him he’s a bad leader for not being able to protect his people from this, telling him she’s going to take the Dumort back and make the vampire race great again.

And Simon doesn’t make time to stop, he just _moves._

He flashes over to Will and pulls out the crooked piece of wood from his stomach, and he just so manages to hear his soft, “Look out,” before one of the other vampires is charging against him. And Simon ducks and rolls to the side, pulling the vampire down with him and away from Will before he stakes him, just so watching him crumble to the floor before he’s off again.

 Moving across the room to help Lily out as she struggles to keep track of a trio of girls flashing around her as if she’s the mouse and they’re just waiting for the right time to eat her. But they’re obviously new and arrogant in their abilities, so Simon stakes the one closest to him and watches the rest of them stop before he takes out another in perfect synch with Lily.

The two of them breaks up the large ring of vampires crowding around Lizzie and Joel who are standing back to back, and then they all break loose. Because despite being fewer than the clan Camille has managed to make for herself, the Dumort vampires are older and meaner and haven’t had any casualties.

 

And then he hears the piercing scream and everything just stops, Simon halting in his step as he stops breathing. He turns around and watches Camille push the arrow in inch by inch, Raphael’s mouth open in agony but no words are coming out.

Simon moves faster than he has in his entire life, grabbing the nearest stake before flashing his way to the pair and jerking it through her chest, just below her heart. But he doesn’t watch her fall, doesn’t watch as her legs crumble beneath her and she drops to the floor just beside Raphael.

Instead he turns to his king and falls to his knees above him, carefully moving to remove the arrows starting with the one almost touching his heart. And for everyone he pulls out of Raphael he pushes it back into Camille, pinning her to the floor with her own weapons as he frees Raphael.

Simon’s crying by the time he’s pulling the last arrow out, and for a minute he just looks at Raphael who’s looking paler than Simon’s ever seen him before, his eyes are dull and lack the proper pigmentation of his wonderful brown eyes. And Simon doesn’t hesitate when he pierces his own wrist and brings it to Raphael’s lips, curling his hand around his neck to pull him against his chest to help him drink.

Simon feels it the minute Raphael starts to drink, the surge of pleasure surprising him so much that he drops Raphael’s head and has to bring it back up. It doesn’t feel like when he’s drinking from a human nor like when he drank from Raphael, nothing like the sated happiness he gets when the blood hits his tongue. Instead, there’s a thumbing in his chest, warmth filling his veins as if it’s pumping in synch with how Raphael’s swallowing; an unbelievable urge to protect the man in his arms at all costs, to keep him there forever and makes sure he’s always satisfied.

It not until Raphael taps his thigh that Simon realizes he has already stopped drinking, because he’s still feeling like that, he still wants to give Raphael everything he wants. And Simon doesn’t know how Raphael managed to stay mad at him for so long if he too feels like this, because he’s pretty sure he would allow Raphael to kill him right now if that would make him happy.

“Are you alright? Do you need anything else?” Simon says, his voice rough from the pleasure.

Raphael just shakes his head and struggles to sit upright so Simon helps him, keeping an arm around his waist as they sit down in front of each other, the rest of the hotel’s fighting falling into the background as Raphael smiles softly. 

“Is this, do you feel like this all the time? Because I’m, that’s a bit overwhelming if I might, I don’t think I can think about anything but you right now.” Simon blurts out when Raphael reaches for his hand and takes it into his own.

“Blood sharing is intimate and vampires normally don’t do it until they’re sure they’ve found their mates. But you can’t force a bond if it hasn’t already been. I didn’t know until that night, when you uh, when you almost died, and I didn’t know how you felt so I kept quiet.” He says softly, and Simon’s sure he’s never heard Raphael being so insecure about anything; and it hurt somehow, that Raphael didn’t know how he felt, that he couldn’t tell from the way Simon has been trying to make everything right again that Simon loves him too, that if Raphael told him to jump, Simon would already be working hard to find out how high he wanted him to jump – because Raphael doesn’t like stupid questions like _how high?_

 

So Simon leans in and kisses him, soft lips meeting his wet ones. And Simon has never minded the taste of his own blood, even when he was human and cut himself he didn’t mind sucking on his finger until it stopped bleeding, but now the taste of his own blood on Raphael’s lips feel downright erotic.

There are hands tugging at his shirt to bring him closer and Simon goes without being told, body molding against Raphael’s with ease as he licks at the seam of his lips, eyes rolling into the back of his head as Raphael moans and runs a hand through his hair.

It’s not until Simon’s half into Raphael’s lap and both of them are bleeding once again, that the soft coughing startles them out of their own little world.

Because Camille is still lying pinned on the floor, arrows pierced through her wrist and ankles to keep her in place while the rest frames her heart like she did with Raphael. But it’s not her who’s protesting, looking at them with oddly satisfied eyes, no Lily is standing just above them, the rest of the clan at her heel as they look at Raphael expectantly.

“Should we do something about the last one, _sir_?” she asks dryly, her arm crossed over her chest as she watches the pair of them spring apart, Simon tumbling to the floor as Raphael hurries to his feet, a brief tint of pale blush highlighting his perfect cheekbones.

“Yes, we should.” He says after clearing his throat. He leans down and takes the last arrow Simon had pulled from his body and stabs it through her heart, keeping his eyes on hers as she crumbles to dust. Because Camille didn’t deserve a big and elaborate death, she didn’t deserve the entire clan watching her as she passes away, and Simon would have killed her back when he took her out, but her death had always belonged to Raphael; and he deserved so much more than giving her a quick death.

“Let’s just let everything be as they are right now and go to bed; we can deal with it in the evening.” Raphael says finally, when the fledglings have stopped gaping and don’t look like they want to crumble to the floor beside her.

The crowd starts to thin out, people moving slowly to their rooms, either pairing off for a night’s sleep or going by the fridge to grab a bag of blood to keep strengths up. Lily passes them without a word, but Simon knows he’ll hear about it when he rises the next night.

And then Raphael extends his arm and helps him to the floor, following him to their rooms before opening the door to his and tipping his head to the side, “Are you coming to bed?”

And Simon would follow Raphael to the edge of the world, but staying the night might just be a good place to start.  

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr @simonssantiago!


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